


A Farewell To Arms

by DrByron



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: AU Vasquez lives, Angst, Comfort, Cuddles, M/M, One-armed Vasquez, Secret Desires, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrByron/pseuds/DrByron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Witnessing Vasquez getting shot down throws Vaughn into an existential crisis. Afraid of being the next one to bite the dust, he can't seem to fall asleep. On his search for sleeping aids, he discovers something in the trunk of the caravan he would not have expected to ever see again.</p><p>[Takes place during the TFTBL EP3 intro credits,<br/>Assumes the option that Vasquez's arm got shot off in the beginning of the episode]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Farewell To Arms

**Author's Note:**

> [CONTAINS EP 3 SPOILERS]
> 
> This fanfiction is an attempt to address & flesh out some things that bugged me during the episode.  
> #1: Nobody caring about Vasquez. #2: Vaughn being totally besides himself.
> 
> HUGO VASQUEZ IS TOTALLY ALIVE AND KICKING IS WHAT I'M SAYING  
> (I am not going to let canon stop me from writing more stories featuring him)

The pictures haunted him for every waking second that followed after the event. He had seen people get beaten up, shot down and torn apart (and even that one video clip of a dude dying getting mounted by a skag), but this was different. He had known the guy. This wasn't some no-name bandit, some respawning videogame enemy, some red shirt. This was a man and he had a name. _Hugo Vasquez_. His name was Hugo Vasquez. And he might had been a pain in the butt lately, but so were they, and by Hyperion standards, Rhys, Vasquez and himself, they were the same brand of asshole. Especially now that they had technically killed a few people too.  
Seeing his Hyperion colleague get murdered from up close had done things to Vaughn he couldn't quite decipher yet.  
Poking the body with a stick like an especially artful piece of shit hadn't helped to process it any better, either.  
In terms of the five stages of grief (Vaughn couldn't believe he was actually grieving _Vasquez_ ), he was still in denial. This couldn't have truly happened. But it unnerved him either way.  
  
Lying awake on the couch in the caravan, Vaughn stared at the fixed sky behind the windshield, as if it was nothing but one of his space posters. He loved stargazing. The posters in his bedroom on Helios were a relic from his teenage years, then college years, then young adult years. This brought to his attention how he never seemed to outgrow his nerd status. Even with his newly acquired mini jock body, he still wasn't one of the _cool_ kids.  
He counted the stars of the constellations, some shooting stars, some satellites, some unknown flying light sources, hoping to pass out from exhaustion. The sight made him become painfully aware of his own smallness compared to the universe, and sleep slipped even further out of his grasp. The caravan was standing still, and they had decided to take a break -not a bad idea at 3:21 in the morning. It was close to a scientific miracle that he couldn't feel the slightest hint of physical exhaustion, after days like these. Emotional, oh very much so, but physical, no. Like a machine that couldn't turn itself off, his mind's gears kept on turning and turning. He didn't have words for what was bothering him, so waking up the others would've been a stupid idea. He needed some sleeping pills. Otherwise, he'd be so sluggish the next day, that he might as well serve his head on a silver platter to whatever was to attack them next. The thought startled him even further into wakefulness.  
  
Sneaking around the caravan, he looked into drawers, cabinets, boxes, buckets, and even underneath the couch. Nothing. No Lunesta, no Ambien, no Sonata, no Silenor, not even Dahl Unisom Sleep Gels. He knew a little too much about prescription and over-the-counter medication to not seem like a closet junkie -this simply wasn't the first time he had trouble falling asleep. His mind had a tendency to get racing, and once it started, it wouldn't come to a halt until its metaphorical feet were ground off to bloody stumps, making itself topple and finally grant him a break. But this time, he had nothing to ease his restlessness.  
Vaughn was shocked Fiona and Sasha didn't even have an _Atlas Aspirin_ lying around. Not that this would've helped him. While he could see why they wouldn't have stashed big corporate meds, he was still disdained that he couldn't even find home-made valerian pills or whatever people took to get a good snoozing around here. Probably just hit themselves over the head, or... alright, that was probably a harmful stereotype. (Vaughn added to his conclusion that sleep deprivation had also destroyed his ability to be politically correct.)  
  
Crawling on all fours, he tried to at least find something lost and forgotten, dropped to the floor years ago. He would swallow everything just to get out of his own mind. But what he found wasn't a pillbox, but a little hatch half-hidden by boxes standing next to a cabinet. His last chance, a hidden path. He opened it. It was exactly Vaughn-sized.  
Crawling into the darkness, he was sure that this should lead to the car trunk, just judging from geographical placement. If he was unlucky, this would lead to Fiona's and Sasha's figurative skeletons in the closet. Well, anything to get his mind off of the persistence of death.  
  
Finding a limp, lifeless body lying in the trunk did not do the trick.  
  
“ _Dead person_!”, Vaughn screeched. The dark body started, glaring white scleras staring back with an equal amount of panic.  
“Vaughn- please- oh god, no, please don't hurt me-!” A deep, smoky and pretty unmistakeable voice stammered, anxiously squeezing his figure into the farthest crevice of the trunk.  
“G-g-ghost! Zombie! Vasquez!” Vaughn panicked, trying to scuttle backwards again, hitting his head. “Ouch!”  
“Yeah, uh, ' _boo_ '.” Vasquez croaked sarcastically.  
“Fuuuckfuckfuckfuck!” Vaughn whined, his anxious hands grabbing for everything his darkness-blinded eyes couldn't quite see, everything that could be used as a weapon. He seized a plastic rod that might have been a tire pump, raising it above his head.  
“N-no, wait, I'm not a ghost!” Vasquez hurriedly corrected himself. “And not a zombie either! I was... I was kidding, Vaughn! I'm alive. T-t-take my pulse, here, come on!” He offered him a bloody stump.  
“Oh... ugh, shit...the.... the other pulse!”  
He exchanged it with him his good arm, but it didn't quite look any more alive than the other. Except for the fact that it still _existed_.  
“You're... you're dead. Kinda. I mean… are you? Are you haunting me? Are you a cyborg? Clone? Hologram?” Vaughn reluctantly took Vasquez's hand as if between tweezers -this debunked half of his theories- and searched for the faint throb of a pulse. He couldn't find it. The hand in his hand was cold and clammy. This did a terrible job at disproving his _'undead'_ impression.  
“I-I-I kinda saw you getting shot down, Vasquez! That!… was kind of a big deal! Well... for me. The others seemed... ok with it.”, Vaughn stammered.  
“I had just... passed out, okay? I'm... just damaged. Nobody _bothered_ to check my vital signs, apparently...” Hugo hissed.  
Vaughn slowly lowered himself to lie down on his side, facing the cowering man still flattened against the side of the trunk. His eyes were fixed on the other figure in front of him, almost expecting him to lash out in a burst of brain-hungry zombie violence.  
  
“It... was a big deal for you?”, Vasquez whispered, squinting his eyes in confusion and intrigue.  
“I don't know, that was hardcore guro, man. I mean… _gore_. N-not sexually turned on by this. Nope. Not... not my type of thing when it happens in real life, apparently.” Vaughn mumbled.  
“S-so, Rhys... Rhys didn't say anything? Or, umh, uh... A-august?” Hugo whispered hoarsely.  
“No... not really.” Vaughn said.  
“Alright, uh, that's... anticlimactic.”, Hugo raised his eyebrows, blinking, taking a deep strained breath. “Good to know where the loyalties lie... I mean, sure, Vallory is his mom, but…” He pulled his shoulders up, his eyes darting about.  
“I thought he'd have the balls to, I don't know, tell her to _not_ shoot me? I kinda thought we had something special... Well, you can never really win over a mama’s boy. Wow. I've seen bad mothers-in-law, but sheee is juuust a _monster_ -in-law!”  
After tapping around on the coolish wrist, Vaughn finally found Vasquez's pulse. Maybe it had taken Hugo getting upset to push his weak heartthrob to perceptible intensity. Vaughn pressed his index and middle finger onto the tiny throbbing spot, finding comfort in the proof.  
“Looks like you kind of have a tendency to... overestimate your relationship with people, Vasquez...” Vaughn said, furrowing his brow. Ironically, just earlier that day, Rhys had reported what Vasquez had told him about his personal 'special' relation to Handsome Jack. And naturally Rhys had told him about his own opinion about Vasquez many times, as well. He had witnessed Vasquez ramble about so many special relationships with so many important people that there was no doubt he was delusional about at least a few of them.  
“Yeah... looks like it.” Hugo croaked in defeat.  
He tried to wrap his arms around himself, but realized that one was missing. Tearing his hand away from Vaughn's grip, he hugged himself with one arm only, tightly pressed against his body.  
  
“Y-you can just get this over with, you know.” Vasquez growled. “Don't tease me like this. If you need to call the others, call them now. Though I'd be super psyched if you would not kill me and instead get me to a hospital? That'd just be the _frosting on my buns_!” He chuckled in a way that couldn't sound any unhappier.  
“But let's not beat around the bush. I am a broken man right now. I am tired, I am defeated. And you probably made up your mind already anyway.” He started to choke up a little.  
“I'm not gonna call the others.”, Vaughn whispered, not quite sure why he was so sure about it.  
“I'll just... face it like a man. My impending end. My final defeat. My unavoidable death.” Hugo's vowels were hacked up by sharp breaths, his voice slipping higher.  
“Vasquez, hey, I said I am not going to call the others!”, Vaughn repeated.  
Hugo broke into quiet suppressed sobbing. Vaughn could see his shoulders jerk up over and over. He wasn’t sure if he was being for real or putting on a show.  
“D-dude, I said... hey... I said...” Vaughn awkwardly placed a hand on his arm, way too close to the wound. Vasquez flinching and squeaking made him slide his hand higher, mumble a short “S-sorry”, and rub his shoulder to placate him.  
“Ohh, you are too much, Vaughn.” Hugo sobbed. “Lulling me into a false sense of security right before you go in for the kill. That's... that's just cruel.”  
  
“Why are you here anyway?”, Vaughn asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Like, sorry to say that, but it seems like a really shitty idea to crawl into the trunk of your enemies while you're fatally wounded. Did your brain spill through your arm or something?”  
“Not _fatally_. I'd be dead in that case, wouldn't I?”, Vasquez sassed back.  
“ _Gravely_ wounded, whatever."  
"I thought I'd just catch a ride and get out when you pass by a doctor's office... we were in the middle of nowhere! This was my best call, sadly enough." Vasquez explained.  
"Is your stomach… okay? This is where you were shot, after all.” Vaughn squinted, opened his eyes wide, then squinted again.  
“Geez, it's so dark... are your guts like, spilling out on the trunk floor right now?” Vaughn guessed for his eyes, which were making a piss-poor effort of adjusting to the lighting situation.  
“Uhhh... no. No, they're inside of me, where they're supposed to be. I'm worried about the arm more than anything, you know, 'cause it's missing and I'm kinda bleeding out?” He gestured the stump of an upper arm towards him, immediately regretting the decision. He was visibly freaked out by his own lack of a forearm.  
“I, uh, I think I got a few broken ribs and a laceration? But my organs are all still intact… I was wearing a bulletproof vest, so at least that paranoid move was worth something.” He squinted his eyes and hissed. “Even though the thing _could’ve_ worked a little better. But that’s just _my personal taste_.”  
Vaughn gave an awry smile and patted Vasquez's shoulder. The bigger, sturdier, manlier and usually more intimidating looking man recoiled into a little bundle of discomfort, groaning with pain. Vaughn awkwardly retreated his hand again.  
“I should probably get one myself, too.” Vaughn said as in joke, not actually joking. “Haha... not everyone is as fit for combat as some other people, huh? I'm... mostly pretending to know what I'm doing, to be honest!”  
“Oh welcome to the club, I've been a member _forever_.” Vasquez groaned, balling himself up further into the fetal position.  
  
“Listen, Vasquez, can I…" Vaughn hesitated. "Can I... talk to you about something? This will sound weird, coming from me to you, but... I've been awake for what feels like forever and I'm starting to feel a little drunk on sleep deprivation, so my judgement is probably totally wrecked and I just wanna get this off my chest or I'll never calm down.”, Vaughn began, laughing miserably.  
“Go ahead, my man.”, Vasquez encouraged in a paternal tone. “What happens in the trunk, stays in the trunk. This is the sanctity of going in through the backdoor.”  
“Uh, yeah right, umh… What I wanted to say… I got… I got really scared when I thought you died, Hugo.” Vaughn swallowed drily, wringing his hands.  
“I, I nearly pissed myself. And then seeing you lie on the ground, rag-dolled across the dust, all bloody, mangled, lifeless and-... ugh, this… _this is keeping me up at night_.”  
“Yeah, don't really needed to hear it that... _vividly_. And that was, uh, wasn't that earlier today? Wait, how long have we been driving?”, Vasquez wondered.  
“Well, there wasn't technically a night in between, but... _this nigh_ t I have been awake! I wouldn’t have found the hatch to the caravan trunk if I hadn’t been looking for sleeping aids all over.”, Vaughn said.  
“Didn't find any around here.” Vasquez informed him.  
“Didn't really expect that anymore, either.” Vaughn sighed. “I can't exactly say why it hit me so much, probably because we're... colleagues?”  
“ _Colleagues_ , yes, that's a word for it...”, Hugo murmured, gazing into Vaughn's eyes.  
“This was just too close to home. I don't think I'll _ever_ be able to sleep again.” Vaughn grumbled.  
Vasquez gazed at him with his intense, half-open white slits. Vaughn blinked, just slightly unsettled by the long pause between them. As he was opening his mouth to break the silence, he was interrupted.  
  
“If you can't sleep... I know something we could do to change that.” Vasquez whispered in a shockingly sensual drawl. Vaughn felt the hair on his neck stand up and prickle all over his skin. He figured that, despite Vasquez's unfortunate situation, the man just stubbornly stuck to his _usual strategies_ , and that was all this was.  
“Oh, wow... okay... I-.... I kiiinda knew you'd say that?” Vaughn said.“You're just straight out of a porn movie, aren't you? Are you _learning_ these lines by heart or do they just come _naturally_ to you?”  
“I... uh, well, if you don't like my material, sorry, I'm kind of reaching for the lowest branches here, not really at the height of my abilities right now-...” Vasquez huffed, pouting.  
The man took a deep breath, determination sparkling in his eyes. He loosely cupped Vaughn's chin between his bent index finger and thumb, rubbing over the patch of auburn hair just underneath his lower lip.  
“Vaughn, I just wanted to remind you... that I care. About you. Your well-being. We can be friends at the snap of _your_ finger. We are not enemies, or at least we don't have to be.”, Vasquez whispered sweetly, his voice shivering.  
“About me? Yeah, right, I am not buying that...” Vaughn snorted in sarcastic amusement. “You're just sucking up to me, Vasquez. You know that I know these tricks, right? Rhys used them all the time. We practiced them together. Just... less... 'I'm gonna suck your dick dry if you do me a little favor, honey', and more 'Oh Mr boss man, you are so much more qualified at everything, silly old me can't possibly do this on my own'. Same method, though, totally the same. You're forgetting you're dealing with other Hyperion folks here.”  
  
Vasquez pressed his lips together and took a deep breath.  
“Then let's get real, if you're too _smart_ for this... honest talk.“ Hugo hissed. “You, uh...you know I didn't intend to shoot you, right? You know... before, when I held you hostage.”  
“Oh yeah. Right. That is a thing that... happened.” Vaughn said monotonously, getting slightly uncomfortable at the memory.  
“Yeah, yeah, Vaughn, I... I really didn't intend to shoot you. I was just... panicking. This was escaping my comfort zone _so fast!_ ” Vasquez muttered. “And I thought it was a good idea to go all movie villain, I mean, this made sense, right? And movie villains take hostages. And then I saw you stand there and I kinda just wanted to squeeze you, because you're so _illegally adorable_ , and then I thought, hey, why not combine this-”  
“Aaalright? Uh, just... stop right there. I'm _not_ gonna rat on you, Vasquez... for some... odd reason.” Vaughn said, slightly shifting, but not moving his head.  
“Okay, good, that's... that's good. Thanks. But...” Hugo began, a wave of new words already splashing over.  
“I just thought you should know. In case my life is at stake any time in the future. Like... oh I don't know...” He pretended to consider it. “Right now?!" He grabbed his shoulder, staring at him pleadingly.  
"My life depends on you, Vaughn, and I will do anything, _anything_ , to prove my life is worth being spared.”  
“Okay, Hugo... sure, just... stop mentioning it." Vaughn lowered his chin to his chest, blinking too often.  
"I am left-handed, so I still got my strong arm at your bidding-" Hugo edged closer.  
"I said stop! You are not reaching anything with that... porn dialogue repertoire.” Vaughn twisted his head out of Hugo's grasp and shifted his legs, arms, body uncomfortably.  
“Vaughn, Vaughn Vaughn Vaughn... but you don't seem to be entirely unphased by my generous friendliness. It’s not gone past me that you used my first name tonight.” Hugo squinted, smirking. “Don't think I ever heard you say it. Or at least not in a long while... that must count for _something_.”  
Vaughn furrowed his brow.  
“Yeah, I guess, I don't know?” He chuckled, an edge of shrillness scraping at his tone. “This whole situation, it's just... intense stuff. I'm just... I'm just a bit all over the place now, don't think anything of it.”  
Vaughn crossed his arms, listening to the quietness. He realized they had synchronized their breathing rhythms, or Vasquez had consciously adjusted his, he wouldn't be surprised by _any_ psychological trick from him.  
  
“I'm... I'm scared, Hugo. That's all.” Vaughn burst out.  
“Death is just... everywhere. Seeing you die, that kind of made it very... in-your-face. I could be next! I'm... I'm glad you're not dead, but the shock is too deep to suddenly stop having this effect on me.”  
“Well, uh, thank... you. That’s... at least... one person.” Vasquez mumbled.  
“But I'm part of this now, you know, not like I can simply back out... They are my friends, they need me, I have a responsibility. _Surviving_ 's just become this uncomfortable priority in what we're doing down here.”  
Vasquez wheezed quietly, and Vaughn knew that he could understand better than everybody else the dread he was experiencing lately.  
“You and I aren't toootally different.” Vaughn admitted, already regretting the sentence when he was halfway through.  
“We're not, no...” Vasquez whispered heatedly, immediately seizing one of Vaughn's hands.  
But with the wild gestures that accompanied Vaughn's next words, the hand was immediately ripped out of his grasp again.  
“I'm probably the _Vasquez_ of my group! Let's face it! I'm pretty much the _incompetent bumbling idiot_ , compared to all these badasses! ...and... pseudo...badasses.”  
“Vaughn, sugarplum, you're intelligent... creative... cute... feisty... industrious... and you have a gorgeous body. I don't think you're in any way inferior-” Vasquez quietly proposed, but Vaughn didn't even listen.  
“And if you can die just like that, I could be next, you know? I'm _this_ close to getting myself killed, Hugo! And nobody will care!” Vaughn was getting too loud for their own good. Vasquez quickly covered his mouth.  
“Shhh. They're gonna hear us.”, He hissed. Only after Vaughn's shoulders had relaxed again, he carefully removed his hand.  
“Sorry, I'm just...” Vaughn breathed in, breathed out. “Even if I don't get killed, I can see bad things happening soon. Very bad things.”  
“Bad things like what?” Hugo asked.  
“Bad things like _Rhys_ adjusting more and more to the situation, while I stay... where I am. I'm just this nerdy accountant, not really Pandora material... But Rhys? I mean, he _is_ as much an uncool nerd as I am, but... he's just so good at faking it.”  
“Fakes it until he makes it.”, Vasquez completed.  
“Yeah, ugh, I _hate_ these Hyperion mottos we're getting brainwashed into!” Vaughn groaned. “I can see this happen, you know... Rhys _actually_ somehow managing to become some kind of new Handsome Jack action hero type? And I will just... be a burden who can't do _jack shit_. And then I will just... disappear from his life. Anticlimactic, premature, and with _nobody_ to care.”  
Vaughn's breathing was heavy and labored, his clenched fists shivering.  
“Because I won't be able to keep up, just like _you_ didn't _._ ”  
  
“Ouch, that was... painful.” Hugo almost choked on the words.  
“But... yeah, you're... you're _right_.” He wheezed hoarsely, almost unable to breathe.  
“This has happened before, man.” Vaughn muttered. “Rhys was always a tiny bit better at giving off the first impression that he's 'cool' and that jazz. Back then, that meant not getting invited to the same cool parties, alright. But here, this is a matter of _life and death_...” Vaughn raked a hand through his hair, getting his fingers stuck in the temples of his glasses.  
“I'm major scared, man, this is... this is freaking me out.”  
“I'm really freaked out too, for the record.” Hugo choked up.  
“I-I-I don't know if this is me being paranoid, or...” Vaughn muttered.  
“Listen-" Hugo grabbed his shoulder.  
"If he doesn't even comment on me, his long standing nemesis, no sadness, no joy, nothing... then Rhys is probably gonna move on when you die, too." He gave him a look of deepest regret and condolences.  
“He will, won't he.” Vaughn said, his face going slack with apathy.  
“I am so very shocked and disappointed in him, too, don't get me wrong! I don't want this to be true! This is just not right. But he seems to have a single-track mind right now... ” Hugo pressed his lips together.  
“He didn't flinch when you died, he won't flinch when I will go. It's only a matter of time before I become obsolete.” Vaughn summarized.  
Vasquez nodded gravely.  
“I'm gonna be outrun.”, Vaughn stated.  
Vasquez shrugged his shoulders.  
  
“If our deal had worked out,Vaughn, and the two of us could’ve joined forces… I would’ve never left you behind.” Vasquez hummed. “Because I know how devastating it feels to be left out, just because you're not immediately up to somebody' else’s screwed up standards.”  
He carefully placed a hand on Vaughn's jaw and began to fondle him, a dreamy smirk on his lips.  
“We could've gotten through things together, watched out for one another and made sure nobody gets left behind. We could’ve had a great time.” He brushed his knuckles over his cheek.  
“Yeah, we… could have… I guess.” Vaughn admitted, lowering his eyelids, shifting uncomfortably.  
“We could’ve lived the high life on top of Hyperion, with culinary extravagance, drugs, hookers, the craziest parties and merchandise. And… us two… enjoying everything… _together_.” Hugo’s purr dropped lower.  
  
“I… I agreed to your deal, Vasquez…!” Vaughn crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose. “You were the one who… who double-crossed me.”  
“Oh yeah… right. Right.” Vasquez awkwardly retreated his hand.  
“And I am so sorry about that, Vaughn…!”  
“I _agreed_ to working with you, just to be dropped like a hot potato! But _now_ you’re crawling back to me? Well, figures.” Vaughn murmured through clenched teeth.  
“Vaughn, honey cake, my hands were tied!” Vasquez wailed. “There were so many new cards on the table, I didn’t have another choice. I really wanted to make us happen, oh I really did! But they would’ve ripped my dick off!”  
Vaughn raised an eyebrow. “What exactly stopped you from going through with it? Just curious, because… I was ready to ditch my friend for the promise of an easy way out. That was probably… cowardly of me. Not proud of that in retrospect. I was ready to betray him, probably the most important person in my life, for… for the promise of the high life with _you_ of all people.”  
“Vaughn, my peach, my sweetest guilty pleasure-“  
“Get to the point, Vasquez!”, Vaughn barked.  
“I couldn’t go through with this because of the big people up on Hyperion and… and Vallory and… listen, it was just one big clusterfuck orgy, alright? Complicated stuff. A real mess. A mess to frighten even Pleasure Palace dry-cleaner.” Hugo nervously bit his lower lip.  
“Oh yeah, that sounds specific and absolutely believable?” Vaughn said.  
  
“But I have so dearly hoped _you_ would be the one to agree to my suggestion, Vaughn!" Vasquez assured. "My man, my sweetcheeks, my little Mr Universe! If the both of you had agreed, I would’ve ditched Rhys for you, no question about it!”, Vasquez wildly gestured with his one hand.  
Vaughn had a hard time believing that Vasquez was not twisting the truth in retrospect. He was actually pretty sure he couldn’t believe anything he said, because what was speaking was Vasquez’s fear of being revealed to the others and thus facing the possibility of actual death. He was not free to speak his mind. None of this was reliable info.  
But looking at that hopeful, pitiful, dorky smile on that usually so suave and aloof face did kind of hit a soft spot. And Vaughn uncrossed his arms.  
“I… I don’t think I can picture it anymore, Vasquez…” Vaughn scratched his nape, remembering the many ways he used to imagine it. His thrillseeking nature fantasized about the wild things Vasquez could have offered to him, the things Rhys would've always shied away from. Vasquez would've been the ticket to all the venues he was thrown out of before, everything that money and power a few well-placed 'accidents' could get. And he knew Vasquez somewhat had a _soft spot_ for him. And Vaughn enjoyed getting that power over somebody usually higher up on the corporate ladder. He was gravely ashamed of having grasped that straw in a moment of anxiety, almost betraying his dearly beloved best friend. And even though he told himself he had planned to double-cross Vasquez as well, he actually was not sure about it.  
“Us, working together… I-I-I don’t know.” He mumbled.  
  
“I can think of so many beautiful ways we could've happened, Vaughn...” Vasquez whispered into his ear.  
Vaughn placing his hands on Vasquez's chest, slightly clutching at the fabric, sent signals he wasn't consciously aware of. Him gazing into Vasquez's half-closed eyes, as if mesmerized by the strip of whites floating in the darkness, sent such signals too. He mirrored the lowered eyelids and pressed his lips together. Before he could process what was happening or move out of the way, he felt Hugo's lips brushing against his own, their beards creating a little scratching sound in the quietness of the caravan's trunk.When Vasquez tensed his lips to bring them together more firmly, Vaughn snapped out of his paralysis.  
  
Jerking his head back, through clenched teeth, he stuttered: “Thaaat's s-sort of inappropriate right now!”  
“S-sorry, I... oh god sorry, I totally misread your body language there! That was wishful thinking, I'm so sorry!” Vasquez stammered.  
“Inappropriate… kinda hot-“ Vaughn interrupted himself. “B-but inappropriate! Ok, uh, let's, uh... hug! How about that?”  
“That sounds, uh... nice... enough! Sure!” Vasquez hesitated but then weirdly extended his good arm for Vaughn to place his head on. The smaller man scooted closer and flung an arm around the other, giving him an big friendly squeeze. He wiggled his torso to and fro, trying to hug the tension away.  
“That's still kind of inappropriate, isn't it...” Hugo mumbled.  
“Yeah, totally inappropriate.” Vaughn agreed, pressing him tighter, snuggling against his neck. “Makes no sense. Totally weird. We should not be doing this right now.”  
They still did. Vasquez brushed his lips over Vaughn's forehead, and Vaughn wondered how far a situation can push two men to make them end up huddled against each other like freezing little baby birds.  
  
After an even more inappropriately long time breathing in unison, searching comfort in each other's arms, Vaughn mumbled: “Is your arm stump even bandaged? Like... are you bleeding on everything right now?”  
“I sort of wrapped by shirt around it... really improvised. How was I supposed to properly bandage myself? I barely managed to crawl into your vehicle.” Vasquez grumbled.  
Vaughn groaned. “You know first aid kits are usually in the trunk of a vehicle, right? Like, in here, where we are.”  
“O-oh, yeah, I... that did not cross my mind. Totally forgot about that.”, Vasquez said, a little embarrassed by his own denseness.  
Vaughn didn't even need to look around for too long. A few grabs into the dark grey murkiness of the trunk, and he felt a box between his fingers, barely smaller than a shoe box. It was in fact a first aid kit, and ignoring the best before date, Vaughn began to half-blindly unwrap and rebandage Hugo's open wound. He could hear him clench his teeth and growl and squeak at the motions, and the contact of skin and disinfectant.  
“Come on, you gotta get through this now, Vasquez... just hold on tight, won't take long.”, Vaughn mumbled, wrapping the bandages around the stump.  
“Vaughn, have you never seen a Western or Action movie?” Vasquez hummed. “Even the toughest guys flinch when they get patched up by their beautiful companion... it's the one scene where the strong macho man drops his defenses and becomes vulnerable, shows his human side. It's beautiful, and subtle, and bonds them so very intimately. Simply one of my favorite movie tropes.” He swooned.  
“Yeah I'm not really a beautiful companion type, and this is hard enough to handle in the dark, you flinching like a fidget doesn't make it easier.” Vaughn said.  
“You have no sense of romance, do you?” Vasquez huffed.  
“Nope. But I'm good at problem- solving when I'm in the dark. Hehe.” Vaughn gently patted the stump, accidentally making Vasquez flinch another time.  
”Look, uh, all patched up. I... hope... it won't get infected now.” Vaughn considered his work as well as he could, considering the light situation.  
  
Vasquez wobbled his stump around, testing the tightness of the bandages. His distraught face revealed that this only made him more aware of his situation and just how dissatisfying it was to have one arm less.  
“This... is something I will need to get used to.” Vasquez lamented.  
“Well, you can still get a cybernetic arm like Rhys has.” Vaughn suggested. “They're pretty practical. You can hack stuuuff, make video caaaalls, use it as a remote controool...” He listed. “Usually come a bit on the stronger side, too, like, you can lift stuff better. But you can get them with a whole bunch of cool functions.”  
“Yeah, why not. Not gonna let this baby freeball in front of innocent kids, after all... I could get one to match my pinky, solid gold.”, Vasquez considered, wiggling the small 3-link prosthetic on his left hand. Even in this light, Vaughn could make out the small 'H' at the base of it.  
“Maaaybe gold-plated, you know, they're already heavy enough.” Vaughn chuckled.  
“You got a point. Golden, either way.”  
“Would suit you.” Vaughn grinned.  
“Would suit me.” Vasquez smirked. “And a few of these functions are _probably_ pretty sexy, right? They gotta be. That's what people secretly want. I've heard of a vibrator function, adjusting strength and rhythm of the vibes to an MP3 of your choice...”  
Vaughn broke into laughter: “Of course you'd want a _vibrating_ hand! Your priorities haven't changed a bit, I see!”  
"You know what my _pinky_ can do, right?” Vasquez purred.  
  
Vaughn chuckled for a while, and sluggishly snuggled into Vasquez's arm again. He was lying face to throat, and somehow enjoyed the feeling of all-emcompassing safety, which came over him despite his reason telling his guts to know better. But even though he was so much smaller, he knew that Vasquez was held _by him_ just as much as the other way round. Vaughn clung to the man he should expose as if he was the last thing he could hold onto.  
  
“How about... when we meet again on Helios... you're gonna show me that fancy new arm of yours and I'll assess which one is cooler, Rhys's or yours?” Vaughn suggested.  
“Oh that's a cute idea. Real cute. But, uh, you are aware that you're giving me an easy victory there, right? You know just as well as I do that I have far more _refined_ taste than our friend Rhys... I don't know what my arm will look like just yet, but it's going to be... breathtaking. But, uh...” Vasquez smacked his lips. “How about the winner gets to have dinner with you, eh, how about that?”  
“...you're not done with this scheme yet, huh?” Vaughn chuckled, sensing his face heat up.  
“I mean.. yeah! Uh, sure! If the winner's paying? I mean, hey, that'd be a win-win for me!” Vaughn joked.  
He had an odd suspicion that Vasquez might need an extra incentive to get his shit together and get back to Helios. There was no way of telling what was expecting him at Hyperion, and what his future looked like. Granting him that hope was just something Vaughn would've welcomed if he had been in the same situation. And yes, he was a dick, a ridiculously narcissistic show-off who was 90% facade. But in that way, he was really just like _them_ , and Vaughn mostly opposed him _for Rhys_. And he knew he shouldn't find him interesting, but Vaughn had always felt awfully attracted to everything that was _forbidden_. And a ' _lost bet'_ was the perfect cover up for spending some time with this pathetic man, without either of them endangering their reputation. Ironic dating, in a way.  
In the end, this promise was as much incentive for Vaughn as it was for Vasquez.  
“Sooo, deal?” Vaughn asked.  
“Oh you don't need to ask me, I am sooo down for this.”, Vasquez purred with a faint smirk on his lips. He was hardly able to keep his eyes open anymore. His pulse was weak and slow, but not in danger. Vaughn felt it throb against his forehead, which he had leaned against the main artery of Vasquez's throat.  
And with the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, and the complete silence of the trunk, Vaughn felt his eyelids slowly drop, finally granting him the release of deep slumber.  
  
The only advantage to sleeping troubles is that you might wake up far too early, too. If you needed to disappear from a compromising situation, for example, waking up besides the wrong person, this was an ace up your sleeve. The easiest way to make a walk of shame far less shameful is if nobody even notices you were gone for the night. Vaughn closed the hatch behind him and napped on the couch until the others woke up as well.  
  
And when they passed by a doctor's office later that day (shady yet staffed), he 'accidentally' kicked the wall several times.  
“Bro, uhh, what are you doing? You're acting all weird again!” Rhys yelled from the front seat, seeming more annoyed than actually concerned.  
“Nothing. I'm... I'm fine.” Vaughn sassed him, hands in his pants' pockets. He then puffed his chest and raised his voice, yelling into the room.  
“Not like I need to go to a doctor or anything, no, I'm fine! Unlike some other people who could need one right now! And if I would need one, there is one right here, right in front of the caravan, totally nearby! Very useful for people who do need a doctor!”  
  
He gave the hatch a few more kicks, for good measure. The others had eyed him suspiciously ever since they had witnessed Vasquez's 'death' anyway, and Vaughn knew he hadn't been his normal self. But they were probably just thinking that he was going violently coo-coo under the stress. He let them. It would still be better to be considered completely nuts than to be considered the weak link of the team. He'd rather be feared than forgotten.  
  
As they started the engine again, Vaughn took a casual peek out of the window. He caught sight of a dark silhouette shuffling against the overexposed backdrop of sand, one arm swinging to make up for the weight difference of the missing other. His stomach twisted in relief, anticipation and dread, hoping that he'd just survive long enough to take Vasquez up on that fancy date, back home on Helios.


End file.
